Ar Cuil
by Ambellina
Summary: Incomplete. And, honestly, since I can't remember what it was about.. I doubt I'll ever finish it.
1. Route 66

I'm lost.  
  
I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. I think I'm supposed to be living, but it doesn't feel like it. I don't feel alive. I don't remember the last time I've truly felt an emotion clearly. The last time I've been happy. I just keep walking down this dank, dark corridor. My echoing footsteps confirming my detachment from the world.  
  
There's fog all around me, clouding my mind and numbing my touch. I'm trapped within my own head. The stars don't shine for me anymore. I don't know if they ever did. The dungeons are a perfect companion to my isolation. The darkness here engulfs my soul, body and mind.  
  
Comfort comes from the sharp words. The lethality gives me hope. Yet they don't come as often as years before. I'm falling deeper. The anger was my salvation. The hate the realist square in my quilted reality. It's still there, and I'm grasping it for fear of loosing myself more. I fear a mentally comatose state. Where my body continues to go through the motions, my lips continue to uphold a semblance of normality; what ever normality is, and I will not be able to kill the pathetic wretch I will have become.  
  
The invisibility cloak brushes against my forearm. Protecting me from ignorant eyes that hate what they do not understand, a lost spirit. Animated not through love of life, but of the pure mechanical stamina of the body not to die quickly. Nobody noticed the knife I slipped into my robes at dinner. I did not intend for them to. If it comes to it, I will not hesitate. I will not tolerate it. I will stop it all, before I become the husk that is my ultimate destination. Yet, I still have some consciousness left. Each day it harder and harder to resist the lure. The constant pull to end it all.  
  
I can't find my Route 66. To find it would be sublime. I seem to have veered off the path somewhere, and I can't find my way back. A new beginning and a new life, is promised at the end of where I want to be. A chance to start life anew, but I don't know the way there, to the end. Even the middle is a mystery. Tears have been shed looking for the route. Countless nights I've wasted searching for it. No longer am I capable of envying those who have never strayed, never had to think about their way through life. I'm beyond tears now. The capacity to cry, to weep, to sob has left me. Just like my motivation to find the end.  
  
I'll never be given the chance to start life anew. Never find the end I once wanted. I'm not going to waste anymore time. Long ago did I stop searching for help. I'm so close to a different end. To the end of the one way street I wandered mistakenly down. So close to the end. Nothing matters anymore. Soon.  
  
But not now. I've been waiting.  
  
Waiting for someone to come and save me. Dumbly calling upon deaf ears. Nothing. This bit of hope, it's all I have.  
  
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Important: Well, maybe not that important, but if anyone reading this has the inclination, I don't have anyone to proof-read/beta this for me. I did my best to catch mistakes, but there has to be something I've missed. So, if anyone is willing tell me! It would be appreciated.  
  
I hope none of you have decided that reading this chapter was a waste of time. It would make me sad. And sadness would result in more angst, if I could drag myself to write despite my sadness.  
  
Did this come off angst-y? It's my first fic, and I'm not entirely sure about how my writing comes across to others yet. So, any feed back, ireviews/i..., would be so very much appreciated. *grin*  
  
Oh, and please don't ask me who the person in this is. I'm not sure about that yet, myself. Though, I do have a couple possibilities. I'm sure you can guess.. But, It's highly probable that I wouldn't tell you even if I knew. Surprises are fun.  
  
Anyway... I might drop a hint in the next chapter.  
  
eh, please don't yell at me for possibly warping the Harry Potter Universe in future chapters. Anything I change will be solely for the functioning of the little bit of plot I'm currently working with, or can be attributed to my notoriously bad memory.  
  
I already have the second chapter writen!! I'm proud of myself. So, if you want it posted REVIEW!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the world of Harry Potter. I own the rights to nothing. Even the plot that I intend to force upon the characters of Harry Potter. Though, the plot iis/i of my own creation; I just don't own it in any legally binding sense.  
  
Ah, this note is about the same lenght as the actualy story.. Must. Stop Typing... 


	2. huh?

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the world of Harry Potter. I own the rights to nothing. Even the plot that I intend to force upon the characters of Harry Potter. Though, the plot is of my own creation; I just don't own it in any legally binding sense.  
  
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"Harry, Watch Out!!!"  
  
Harry spun around on his Firebolt 03, just in time to see a bludger accelerating at a dangerous speed to the general proximity of his head.  
  
Pulling the brooms handle, he did a quick series of turns narrowly escaping a permanently dented skull. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't quick enough. The bludger whistled past his ear and impacted with a painful crack upon his shoulder. Happy with its work, the bludger zoomed off to entertain itself with a Ravenclaw player.  
  
"Shit Harry, I didn't think the bastard would do that." One of the Weasley twins came over to Harry's side. Unable to determine which twin it was, due to the all consuming pain, Harry opted to grimace. "But don't ya worry. Me and George will get 'I'm back for you. Do you think you can play well enough to catch the snitch? We can't have our best seeker down."  
  
Harry nodded his head towards Fred. "Yea, I can catch it, as long as I don't have to do anything with my left arm."  
  
"Eh, just try your hardest to win. We've won the Quidditch Cup the last five years with you on the team, and it would be sweet to win it six years in a row. And look on the bright side Harry, at least Lockhart's not here to de-bone you arm, and you can go to the infirmary after the game!"  
  
"Funny Fred, real funny..."  
  
Carefully wiping off his glasses with the sleeve of his robe, Harry began to search for the snitch in hopes of finding it before Cho Chang.  
  
"And Gryffindor scores!!! Nice shot Alicia. Perfect form if I may say so myself. A shot like that can only come from an inborn talent. And the girls got talent! No chaser in Ravenclaw can b----"  
  
"Lee Jordan, get back the game this instant! Honestly, I don't know why I've allowed you to stay on as commentator. One more digression from the actual play of the game, and I will find a replacement!"  
  
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall. Well the score is 90 to 70, Ravenclaw. Hopefully, the Gryffindor seeker will be able to catch the snitch with that damaged arm. Bludger got him good."  
  
Up in the air, Harry slowly circled around the pitch. The pain in his arm had intensified, if anything, and was making it exceedingly difficult for him to concentrate. Then, through his peripheral vision, Harry saw Cho go down into a dive.  
  
iCrap she's spotted the snitch!/i  
  
Leaning down into his broom, Harry raced after the other seeker whom was already closing in on the flighty ball of gold. Yet, Harry's Firebolt 03 could of outstripped Cho's Nimbus 2000, the standard broom each house team member was issued, in any competition of speed.  
  
Harry had reached only a brooms length away from Cho, and was passing her fast. iI'm so close. Almost there, almost there... yes, got it!/i Harry's hand wrapped tightly around the small ball, ensuring a Gryffindor win.  
  
Touching down, Harry was elated as he got off his broom. The rest of the players touched down. All high with the rush that accompanied a game well played.  
  
Hermione came running down from the stands, and latched herself onto Harry in a great big hug. As Ron dismounted his own broom, Hermione hugged her boyfriend tight and gave him a kiss. "You two were amazing. Lovely catch Harry, and Ron you did a damn good job as keeper." Punctuating her words with another quick kiss, she settled into Ron's arm around her waist.  
  
"Yea! Great game mate." Grinning, Ron said, enthusiastically patting him on the back. "Absolutely amazing how you caught the snitch right out from under Cho's nose like that. Brilliant, jus' Brilliant."  
  
The energetic congratulations painfully reminded Harry of his hurt shoulder. Cringing, Harry looked at his friends. "I think I need to go to the infirmary. That bludger really messed with my shoulder. Ron, could ya take my broom back for me." Seeing Ron's nod of consent Harry headed off to the infirmary. "Thanks man."  
  
"Harry wait!" Hermione came running up behind him. "I'll come with you to make sure you're okay."  
  
"You really don't have to do that Hermione I'm sure I'll be fine."  
  
"You may be fine, but I read in a book that when energies are high, often the effects of an injury are overshadowed by the excitement, and the injured person may pass out from the sudden rush of pain to the brain. So, though you may be fine, I'm coming with you. I can't have you past out in an empty hall for days. What would I do if you were gone, and I had to spend all of each day with Ron, with no time away from him. I need some alone time! And when you and Ron hang out, I get quality alone time."  
  
"I see. So you walking me to the infirmary under the pretense of being a loving friend. When really you're just protecting your own selfish needs." Harry grinned at the shorter girl.  
  
"Exactly, Harry."  
  
Laughing, the two entered Hogwarts. But the effort need to laugh pushed Harry's over exerted body past his limits and he passed out in the entrance hall. Sighing, Hermione did a quick levitation charm and brought the unconscious Harry to the infirmary waiting room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Opening his eyes Harry realized several things all at once. First, he could not see anything clearly. Second, he seemed to by laying on a bed that was not his own; lastly, his shoulder no longer hurt. Pawing at the bed-side table Harry picked up his glasses and glanced around. iI'm in the infirmary. How did I get here?/i  
  
"Ah, Harry, good, good, you're awake. You missed dinner, but I had the house elves bring you up some food." Checking Harry over, Madame Pomfery bustled about the bed. "Here, boy, eat this chocolate. Quidditch is such a violent game. I don't know why Albus doesn't take stronger safety precautions.  
  
Choking on the chocolate, hastily stuffed in his mouth, Harry shot Madame Pomfery a look. "Can I go?"  
  
"Not until you eat your dinner, dear. Eat, and then you may leave."  
  
"Fine." Not wanting to stay in the infirmary longer than necessary Harry started devouring the food set in front of him.  
  
From behind a curtain Harry could hear two voices arguing.  
  
"You have to take the potion Mister Malfoy. I'm sorry but there's no way of getting out of this." Madame Pomfery's stern voice drifted over to Harry. "I can not allow you to leave until you drink."  
  
"Fine. Give me the damn potion." Malfoy's voice was saturated with ice. "I don't give a fuck anymore. I've been here for hours. I just want to leave."  
  
Through the curtain Harry could see Madame Pomfery disappear into a side room, and return with a flask. "This is it Mister Malfoy. Drink."  
  
"Shut up, and leave me alone."  
  
"I'm not leaving until you drink. It would also be wise to develop some manners child. You won't get far in life with an attitude like that!"  
  
"Shut up." Sounding exasperated, Harry could see the outline of his in school nemesis bring the potion to his lips and drink. "Happy?" Not sounding at all please, Harry heard Malfoy's boots viciously tapping against the linoleum floor as he stalked out of the infirmary.  
  
iWhat in Merlin's name was that about?/i  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Enjoy??  
  
If you think my story is the most boring piece of work you've read, tell me!! I want to know what people think. Be it positive or negative. Though preferably positive.. I crave feed back, and urge you to review!! 


	3. London

Hey everyone! Heh, I haven't been able to figure out how to work italics... and having to go through and add //// slashes is really annoying, so I hope you don't mind having to pick out thoughts or that the idea of non stellar formating has deterred anyone from reading this fic. It looks nice on word pad, but I just can't seem to get it to translate onto fanfiction.net. If you know how to get italics to show TELL ME!! I will worship you and your superior knowledge!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the world of Harry Potter. I own the rights to nothing. Even the plot that I intend to force upon the characters of Harry Potter. Though, the plot is of my own creation; I just don't own it in any legally binding sense.  
  
Thanks so much to girlofpoision for reviewing and previewing this chapter for me!!  
  
Now onto the fic!  
  
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I think it was second year when they found out. I have no idea how, bloody staff. They even wanted me to see a specialist. I made a fuss of course. I screamed at, cursed at, and maimed every thing in my sight. None of the paintings stayed on the wall for long, the canvas' torn from their wooden supports. Most of those at the end of the hall had the good sense to take leave of their frames. Vases shattered while candle wax played patterns against the gray stone wall. I vaguely recall my fist breaking off the granite nose of Jonet Spaldarg, one of the Aberdeen Witches, before a comfortable blackness consumed me.  
  
I think Dumbledore told Filch that Peeves did it. I inflicted more damage in that one corridor than Peeves ever could of.  
  
In the end, I gave in. They threatened to tell my parents. As long as Father and Mother were not told, I would comply. The aftermath of them knowing would of been dreadful. I think they expected me to be docile after that. That my mental status would make me more submissive to their demands. Of course I wasn't going to be willingly obedient, it's not in my nature.  
  
I became more tumultuous, more of a bother to Potter and his gang of followers, and a terror to all first years. Damn Potter and his friends. They've always been an annoyance. It was a great grievance, to have had to deal with the unpleasantries of meeting them.  
  
But still, it doesn't mean anything. Nothing means anything, and everything means nothing.  
  
All the nuances of life are lacking importance. Life, itself, is pointless means of existence. What is it? Nothing more than a series of depressively dreary days, compiled into months, which form years that stretch on through eternity.  
  
They said it would make me better. That it would cure the sickness growing in my mind. Their 'cure' only made it worse, accelerated its exponential growth. But I've found my own cure. Well, not really a cure, but a defense. It stops the darkness from overtaking my soul the way it has possessed my body and mind. It focuses reality, melts the numbness better than any medical potion of theirs has been able to. Lacking in words, the cure came to me. Unbidden. Apparently, the fates heard my muted pleas for salvation, and took pity on my blackened soul. Last summer was very nice.  
  
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For Draco Malfoy, summers at the manor were dull. By himself in a gargantuan mansion there was very little for him to entertain himself with. Between the summer of 6th and 7th year, Draco found himself, once again, alone in the manor library. His father had gone to Egypt on business for the Dark Lord. Lucious Malfoy was in charge of enlisting new Death Eaters. Were any spies found with in the party, the blame would fall solely on Mr. Malfoy.  
  
His mother could be found having liaisons in a discreet part of the Malfoy homestead. The summer before, displaying little intelligence, she had forgotten to perform a protection charm prior to meeting her lover. Draco had assisted in the abortion spell. She had been so distraught over the thought of Lucious finding out. It hadn't been pretty. The fact that Draco's father never caught wind of the affairs was quite amazing.  
  
Sitting in the Malfoy library Draco stared blankly at the book in front of him, idly flipping the pages. He shivered in the oppressive cold of the room and pulled his robes tighter to his body. He had been sitting there for several hours; lost in thought, completely unaware of the time.  
  
Suddenly, he stood, glancing out the window at the night darkened sky. Turning from the window, he headed down to the elf quarters. Knocking on a door, half the size of a normal one, Draco sighed. He had to get out of the manor. Immediately, the door opened.  
  
"Master Malfoy!" the house elf squeaked in surprise, "Can Millie help young sir?"  
  
"I need muggle clothing. Get me some."  
  
"What kind does--"  
  
"It doesn't matter." Draco interrupted the nervously twitching house elf, "Something none conspicuous, anything. Just make it quick."  
  
"Yes sir... M-Millie will get young m-master muggle c-clothes." The stuttering elf disappeared around a corner, and returned minutes later with a pile of black fabric. "It was all Millie could find.."  
  
"Fine, give me the clothes." Grabbing the fabric Draco proceeded to undress in front of the house elf. Modesty was never one of his strong points. Without looking at the outfit he pulled the muggle clothing on, and instructed the elf to take his other clothes. Taking his wand from the discarded robes, he shoved the magical piece of wood into one of his new pockets.  
  
"Always a good idea to be prepared." Muttering to himself Draco made his way to the grand entrance, or in his case exit. The foyer lighted by several floating candles had haunting shadows climbing the entrances walls. Standing at the door, no one tried to stop him, or ask where he was going and when he'd be back. No one cared when he left.  
  
Outside Draco ran. He ran until his legs gave out and lungs were burning through his chest. Unable to go farther, he summoned The Knight Bus. With a deafening bang, the bus appeared.  
  
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the wizard and witch. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening." A man who had small dents in his face, from years of bad acne, looked down at a heavily breathing Malfoy. "Where to?"  
  
"I. want to. visit. muggle London." Draco forced out between several heavy breaths.  
  
"Twelve sickles."  
  
"Money? Oh, crap." Draco whispered to himself as he started to check his pockets, "I forgot about that." Reaching into the jacket pocket, he extracted a medium sized silken pouch, that conveniently was filled with many, many galleons and an equal amount of muggle money. Apparently, the house elves are not a stupid as I thought.  
  
The stairs of the bus were steep to Draco's run-tired legs. As he got to the top, he handed the man a galleon and, without bothering to receive change, picked out his own bed. Thankful for the rest, he sat, pulled back the curtain beside his beside his bed, and stared at the quickly passing scenery.  
  
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Muggle London for Draco Malfoy was an experience. The particular street he was on was crowded with sparsely clad men and women waiting to get into clubs. Look at all the stupid muggles waiting to get into these places. What's the pull?  
  
Confused as to why so many muggles wanted to get behind the doors of numerous buildings with flashy lights, Draco approached the door of one radiating the name San-J, which had a particularly long line.  
  
"ye' can't g'in 'ere." A burly man, with a distinct Scottish accent stopped Draco at the door, and quickly checked him out at the same time.  
  
He just looked me over. I could use this. "But I want to see what's inside." Coming up to the man, Draco placed a light hand on his shoulder and slowly rubbed up against his side. "Please." Pleading wasn't exactly his thing, but Draco was willing do anything to get his way.  
  
"Dam', ye' ar' eh sexay lil' thin'." Groaning deeply, the man reluctantly opened the door for the blonde Slytherin.  
  
"I knew you'd see my way." Walking in Draco failed to notice a sign that said: "San-J's the best gay club in London. Free Vodka when you participate in our extra activities." Inside the club was dark and the air held a unique musk scent. A dimly lit and narrow hallway led to an open door. The floor was filled with a mesh of moving bodies which Draco absently noticed were all men. Techno blared from the ceiling speakers and seemed to overpower the senses, and deep purple lights coloured the dance floor. A bar was to the right, and over in the left corner Draco spotted a muggle alone on a couch. Maybe he can enlighten me as to the nature of this place.  
  
Sitting down on the couch next to the muggle Draco looked at him. The guy appeared no older than twenty. Hair dyed green hung over his eyes, and his outfit clung to the contours of his body. Lips painted black were accentuated by a small silver loop that pierced the lower lip. Leaning over Draco spoke into his ear.  
  
"What is this place?"  
  
Turning to face Draco the man studied him for a moment. Then stated, "It's a club." before looking back out at the chaotic dance floor.  
  
Slightly miffed by the simple response Draco tried again. "I've realized that, but what is it's purpose?"  
  
The man started to talk after giving Draco another long look. "Wait," the Slytherin interrupted "I can't hear you over this...music." Moving forward until their legs touched slightly Draco look at the other man expectantly.  
  
"People come here to dance, have fun relax, to get pissed off their asses, and to find another guy to warm their bed for the night." Then he paused as if measuring the character of the smaller blonde. "But what really draws people here is upstairs. They find a kid that works here, and then they get shown the wonders that are upstairs, for a price of course."  
  
"Oh." Draco thought for a second, "Do work hear?"  
  
The green hair-ed man leaned over Draco, so their faces were mere inches apart. "Do you want me to show you upstairs?"  
  
Startled Draco blurted, "I'm not gay." and then tried intently not to squirm under the intense stare of the other.  
  
Then suddenly, after another measuring look, the club worker leaned down and closed the few inched between their lips. Instinctively, Draco's hands reached up to caress the smooth skin of the others cheek and to curl in the green hair of his neck. The man licked Draco's bottom lip, and Draco could do nothing but willing open his mouth at the others request. The lip ring, surprisingly, did not take away from the kiss, its metallic taste added to the pleasure.  
  
Pulling back, the others mouth made its way to Draco's ear and asked, "Are you sure?"  
  
Gasping Draco didn't know what to say. "I thought I wasn't," he whispered back. His body was tingling as energy ran through him. He felt alive.  
  
"You sure you don't want me to show you up stairs?" He punctuated the question by rubbing Draco through his pants. "I'll even give you a discount, since I want you." He continued to rub the blonde.  
  
"I've never..." Was all Draco could manage to say.  
  
"Really?" Green Hair practically purred. "Well then, I can make you feel thing you've never felt before. I can make you feel higher than you've ever been before, and I can make you feel alive." By now the man was grinding his hips into Draco's.  
  
He can make me feel alive? It was the only thing Draco was able to grasp. "What's... your name?" The man relentless.  
  
"You can call me Zach." He spoke directly into the younger boys ear before kissing him again.  
  
"Zach... sure... why not?" With that Zach immediately pulled Draco off the couch and rushed him up the side stairs. Reaching a plain door, with a simple silver 9 stuck to the center, Zach slammed the shorter Slytherin against it and ravished him a bit more. Pulling back for a second he pushed them through the door and slammed it behind them.  
  
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The experience was amazing, not to mention addictive. Vodka is also especially calming. I kept going back for more, and didn't visit home the rest of the summer. My parents didn't notice, I gained a new appreciation of house elves, learned drugs can add a special kind of kick to the whole experience, and are quite nice on their own. Drugs and sex are a powerful combination. They made me feel more whole then I had in years. It has become my 'cure'. My own secret combination defense against the darkness. One I made sure I'd be able to get once the summer was over. I compiled an ample store of mind altering chemicals before I returned to Hogwarts for the school year. It's keeping me sane. The sex was the harder part of the 'cure' to ensure, but it's surprising what some people will do in Hogsmeade for a bit of cash. 


End file.
